The Legend of Nublo: Marlfox Legacy
by nightsteward
Summary: A band of foxes. Their strange new leader. And a journey of self- discovery for them all.
1. The Fog Descends

Author's note: I'm going to give this story a try. Hopefully I can get some feedback as  
I am a newbie. The story is supposed to be a prequel to an upcoming story I wish to  
create. This introduction is kind of a taster that I hope that you may review and  
enjoy. Please feel free to give me any constructive criticism you can offer. Disclaimer: The plot is my own but feeds off of the great story of Marlfox that belongs to  
Brian Jacques.  
  
Peacefully lay the steep riverbanks of the eastern edge of Mossflower Woods. The river at this point on its long winding path south was swift and deep. Anybeast who might wish to cross it would require a sturdy, reliable boat to navigate through. The current was not only swift, but still bitterly cold only just recently having escaped the firm grip of winter. Snow that had once smothered the earth was now melting steadily in scant clumps under the trees and on the rocky ledges of the river. Already, the surrounding trees on either side were bringing forth gentle new buds that would be nursed into maturity by the soft breath of spring. The air was still and the night sky was crisp and clear. Always in winter is the night sky the brightest and tonight was no exception. It would have been brighter had there been a full moon but on this evening it hung waning under the stars.  
This was no setback for one creature who stood on the edge of a houseraft as it was pulled confidently down the river south. For this character, the darkness and shadows were well- favored. The unacknowledged raft was better protected under the expansive hood of night. Completely still the figure was, with the exception of the brown and green woven cloak that rippled in the slight, but sharp early spring breeze. In fact, so still was the beast that without obvious movement on its part, one would find it impossible to know that it was even standing there. Poking out from under the weather- worn cloak was a deadly looking single-headed axe. The side of the blade was scored consistently, due to the many obvious conflicts it had participated in. Still, it would be a fatal mistake for anybeast to consider the weapon without real harm. The grip of the creature on it was loose, but steady. It was a practiced and knowledgeable hold upon the handle. Not even the tip of the blade twitched under the slight rocking of the raft against the water.  
Lights twinkled pleasantly from inside the little house and shone on the creature's back, silhouetting it as it stood looking south. The only distinctive features that one might discern were the strange pale eyes that shone out from its shaded face. Eyes with pupils like a cat's. Eyes with cunning and intelligence. Eyes with a purpose.  
The creature lifted its snout and sniffed the air appreciatively scanning the upcoming course of the river. The movement of the head was done with soft and wraith-like talent. It was like no other creature that the mysterious beast moved. All was taken in by its pale eyes. Everything was observed and stored in its fertile brain. Soon, the houseraft passed a large rocky island in the middle of the big river that time had oddly worn into the shape of a fish. This did not escape the notice of the cloaked figure. Indeed, recognition dawned quietly in its eyes. If it could be seen in the darkness, a slight smile curled its lips as the large raft continued its journey south.  
  
Almost home  
  
The clear air of early spring was silently interrupted as a strange fog as thick as a curtain suddenly rolled over the river and its banks. It quickly seeped into the forest's edge creating a surrealistic maze as it weaved through the trunks and the riverside bushes and plants. All that could be seen along the river were the waning lights of the houseraft making its way purposefully down the stream and out of sight. Peacefully lay the riverbanks. 


	2. The Fox Band Gathers

Chapter 2, here we go. I'm introducing dialogue here. This is something that I definitely need to practice. It's tricky, so I tend to shy away from doing it. But I'm giving it a try.

I'm introducing some of the supporting characters in this section. Tell me how my dialogue is working. Enjoy!

Earlier on, evening also fell further down the river, across a brief space of rapids, spanning over a waterfall and onto the great stillness of a vast forest lake. It was also here that winter displayed signs of defeat. The great masses of ice that had collected around the majority of the lakeside, were now but small chunks melting away. The ice dotted the surface of the lake, and shone ever so slightly under the old moon. On the right side of the falls, further towards the shoreline, the water sparkled as lights from several fires played and danced upon the surface. Huddling as close as they dared were heavily cloaked figures warming themselves by their fires.

Over a score of foxes had made camp on the banks of this lake which had long remained a mystery to the inhabitants of Mossflower. There was no need to remain overly- secretive about their sojourn on the edge of this great body of water. Most creatures had heard tales of the evil that had only recently been cleansed from its waters. However, Mossflower could be an unpredictable country and its inhabitants chose to steer clear of the lake area. The immediate land surrounding the lake was lush and fertile. Perfect for farming, hunting, and gathering berries, herbs, and nuts. However, the memories of evil had not been forgotten just yet. So the woodlands of the lake remained fairly quiet and empty. It would seem that only those of wicked intent would have the desire to remain on the land.

So it would seem for the vulpine visitors gathered on the sandy shores. However, foxes were not the only creatures camping there that night. Sitting among one of the fires, a little separate from the foxes, who talked quietly as they ate a late evening meal, was a creature that Mossflower had not seen for seasons long past, a wildcat.

Denner was a social character, as felines go, but this night, he sat observing the great fox gathering without comment. He was powerfully built, a brawny creature tempered with the sleekness and grace of his kind. Young and intelligent, he was a fighter by nature. Only the seasons were needed to grace him with more experience. A skillfully crafted cutlass lay within paw's reach of the young wildcat. Denner chewed on a young blade of grass highlighting a well-shaped jaw among his strikingly handsome features. Greyish- brown fur could be seen under the bold wildcat stripes that ran along his face and body. His eyes were a piercing yellow blended with soft brown. At the moment, they expressed content but awareness as well. He was always ready for any sign of movement wherever it might reveal itself. At the moment, he was listening for sounds in the direction of the waterfall.

All that could be heard at the moment was the furious rushing of the stream water into the lake. Denner glanced at the waterfall staring carefully. Nothing yet. He then tilted his massive head slightly towards the sky. The evening was no longer fresh but the stars still burned as brightly as ever. He suddenly turned back towards the camp, drawn by the conversation of the nearby foxes.

"Them water rats said t'be the only uns' left on that island. I don' know. Wot if that fish 'awk still looks arfter em' though? I tell ye, mates, you'll not be seein' much o' me ifn' that be the case. 'Ow does Nublo 'spect to take the island with the bird?"

An anxious looking fox sat at the fire, unconsciously wringing his paws around his spear as he talked. He seemed to be quite fearful.

Another fox, slightly bigger than the former laughed at his ignorance. He gave his smaller companion a hearty slap on the back and spoke up for the rest of the group to hear.

"Yew must be daft, Arfen! 'Aven't you been payin' attention to the stories we've 'eard about that island? There hasn't been no real ruler there for seasons uncounted!"

A young, bright- eyed vixen leaned in.

"Ursoh is right. Only the water rats live on the island an' who knows if they've even managed to live out their lives peacefully. You know rat- types, they've no order. It's whoever's got the biggest sword."

"Or the baldest tail," another fox offered. The foxes around the fire broke into low chuckles.

Arfen still seemed a little unconvinced. He whispered to his companions as softly as he could, "Well at least we got wildcats on our side. We won't be doin' much better than that, right?"

"That's right, fox. Where else could you find a more dependable creature?"

All the foxes encircling the fire started at the sound of the wildcat's deep voice. Denner hadn't moved from his spot but his fierce eyes were now fixed on Arfen who was quivering from snout to brush tail. Not even the most careful whisper had escaped the wildcat's keen ears.

"Tis the truth that you are in good hands, lads. But perhaps equally as so under the care of our young leader, Nublo. She has a "fish hawk" of her own too, you know. Surely there is no doubt among you good foxes that one of your own will take back what is rightfully hers? You are as much entitled as she. "

The rest of the foxes were silent. Their eyes traveled jerkily back and forth, unable to return Denner's confident, unwavering gaze. He nodded at the foxes and said with a careless smile, "You needn't be worrying about me hearin' a compliment. But if there is the slightest chance of mutiny or betrayal, now there's a matter you should be a shakin' for righteously. "

The vixen who had spoken before summoned her courage and struggling to meet Denner's eye inquired in a shaky voice, "We are with her, sir wildcat, and so we follow you. But when we were summoned, we were told almost nothin' of our strange leader. Our mission is clear but what we know of Nublo is not. Surely loyal followers have the right to know more of whom we support?"

The boldness of the vixen startled her companions who stole frightened glances at the wildcat, bracing themselves for what might be a furious backlash for the vixen's looseness of tongue. There was none.

Instead, the brawny cat merely threw his head back and laughed heartily, an action that alarmed the edgy foxes even more. Denner recovered quickly and smiled in his usual good- nature.

"You pose a fair request, vixen. But even those whom many look to for guidance have secrets that they must guard. I'm not certain that Nublo would care for a slight looseness of tongue, even by her dear cousin."

The foxes received a new shock. Arfen stared wide- eyed with amazement at the mirthful wildcat.

"Cu- cu- cuzzin'?!? Ye mean YOU, sir? H- How is that possible? Y- Yer a- a- a . . . ."

Denner moved in closer towards the group to make himself more comfortable by the fire.

"A wildcat? Yes, that is clear. But it must puzzle all of you to a sweat to think of how a fox and a wildcat could even narrowly have relations. It is a strange family tree indeed."

Denner's voice had apparently reached the ears of the other foxes further along the beach. They all began to creep closer to Denner and his group to possibly snatch up a tidbit of a good tale.

Ursoh piped up timidly, "Lord Denner, is it true what somebeasts are sayin'? That Miz Nublo's a Marlfox?"

All eyes were now trained on Denner. The wildcat looked over the group with a somewhat dangerous smile. A strange light flickered in his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. If our leader was truly a Marlfox. Wouldn't you feel it right down in your bones? Besides, that line of witchfoxes was ended long ago. Nublo could not possibly have been related."

Denner waved a huge paw to dismiss the issue. He shifted his position in the sand once more, paying no attention to his audience as he looked out across the lake. The suspense that had so quickly gripped the band died. The disappointed listeners began to turn back towards the comfort of their fires.

Ursoh murmured to his companions out of the wildcat's earshot, "He denies she's got witch blood. That can't be the truth. Whenever I get a glimpse of 'er, I feel it in me bones, no lie."

The young vixen in the group shrugged her shoulders, "Denner I take t'be an 'onest fellow. He knows that strange 'un better than anybeast. An' tis true. All of the Marlfox line was wiped out seasons afore ourselves. It can't take too many brains to know that Nublo could not truly have Marlfox blood."

The chilly shores carried tiny whispers of talk amongst the travelers for some time. Eventually, quiet fell once more as the fires sank into weak embers and weary heads found soft cushions upon the sand or comfort inside tents.

The moon continued to fade as the night aged over the brawny wildcat as he sat looking over the surface of the lake towards the falls of the river Moss. Even in the dark, an eerie set of green orbs shone out from the lakeshore, the most vivid sign of the cat's vigilance.


	3. Dawn Upon the Lake

Hello there everyone, it's been a looong time. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story. Your words have been very helpful. So, here is the new chapter 3. Hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

Dawn was beginning to creep up over the thick trees of Mossflower Woods. The air was bitingly cold, but there was fortunately no wind to carry the chill. Denner had retreated into his personal tent to catch a brief respite before the days events played out. The most recent watch at the foxcamp, a fox named Flinn, tugged his winter cloak more closely toward his body. He was well clothed and only his cheeks felt the nip in the air. As he kept a careful eye across the lake, he prepared an early morning meal of apple pancakes he had found amongst the camp's supplies. A kettle for tea was boiling over his fire.

The rest of the tents on the shore remained quiet, as the foxes took their rest. An occasional snore issued from some of the tents. The lake itself was still and in the early morning light, it had a frosty blue gleam to it as it reflected the young spring sky. Only a soft whisper issued from the sand as the water nudged against it slightly.

The pancakes were ready. An enticing smell of cake and apple permeated the air. Flinn's mouth watered slightly as he lifted the flapjacks into a plate. With a cup of hot brewed tea at paw, Flinn passed the time pleasantly eating his breakfast.

He was finishing up the apple pancakes when he noticed something peculiar happening to the edge of the lake surrounding the falls. Flinn leaned forward slightly and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He set down his dish and tea mug carefully upon the sand.

"What in the name of..."

Slowly and silently, a soft fog began to develop. Beginning at the falls and spreading along the lake's surface, it was a silent invasion of white.

Flinn took a step backward, his paw sinking slightly into the sand. He remained transfixed on the invasion of billowing fog quickly approaching the camp. In seemingly no time at all, the camp was smothered in a soft moist blanket.

Flinn gasped, whirling round as all that had been familiar a moment ago was wiped clean. He knew what he needed to do next. The frightened fox took off across the sand stumbling in his haste and awkwardly attempting to dodge his cook fire and the supplies scattered around the rows of tents. Though the mist was blinding, Flinn firmly kept a presence of mind. He strained his eyes and felt his way around. Eventually, he grabbed hold of a tent flap and leaning over slightly, breathed a sigh of relief.

Denner was currently enjoying a well- deserved nap in his snug make- shift chamber on the sand. His slumber was shattered abruptly as Flinn threw open the flaps of the entrance.

"Lord Denner! Sir! There is something that you must see at once! Lord Denner!"

The wildcat sat up, blankets falling to his lap. He gazed blearily at the fox.

"Urrrr, unnh... damn, fox. It's too early. Ooowaaah..." Denner mumbled. He yawned toothily and raised his muscular arms over his head in a stretch.

He stared at Flinn, who was twisting and writhing in the entrance, apparently agitated by something.

"Hrmm, what ails you at this hour?"

The fox gave a frantic little hop. "Me eyes can't be playin' tricks. I was takin' watch duty as ordered, when there came from over the falls some sort of devilry. Before two shakes of me tail, the whole camp's covered in queer white cloud! What is to be done, sir?"

Denner quickly extracted himself from the blankets and blew past the fox sentry calling,

"Cloud, is it? Well ye should have said so sooner!"


End file.
